Leland set down his cup of tea, tucking his hands back inside his cloak to wrap around himself. He knew he was warm to the touch, but he was shivering slightly. All the while he was doing his best to listen to what was being said without being noticed or without seeming like he was rudely eavesdropping. The men at the next table were loud enough that anyone could overhear, but they still might not have taken kindly to a stranger hanging on their every word. He had just heard a few more theories, perhaps some possible while others seemed highly unlikely when he heard a very familiar voice. It was tinged with a sort of tiredness that mirrored the one he himself felt and he looked up to see Sibyla.
A flurry of emotions moved through him, or at least it would have been a flurry were everything not quite so sluggish. But finally concern won out over the anxious twist of stomach, the nerves, and regret, and everything else that he felt when he looked at her. Because looking at her, he could tell she felt about as bad as he did. She also looked as though she could barely stand. Leland knew that feeling which was why he leaned forward and pulled out a chair. "Please, sit. if you feel even half as terrible as I do, you probably could use the rest."
He didn't have to ask why she'd come; he was fairly certain he knew why. He also knew her well enough to know that she must have been feeling incredibly poorly indeed if she'd actually come to him for healing. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to help her. The fact struck him hard. He once hadn't been able to help her brother and they knew how that had turned out. He had to find a way to help her now. Maybe in some way...it could help ease that past regret.